


Ink and Flesh

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Series: Spadeliano: A Journey [9]
Category: Suburra - La Serie | Suburra: Blood on Rome (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aureliano POV, Blood, Blood Kink, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Claiming Bites, Comfort, Declarations Of Love, Flashbacks, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Bites, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, One True Pairing, Sex, Spoilers for season 2 in summary and warning, Swearing, Tattoos, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, daje, one true love, scratches, these bois will be the end of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Aureliano has trouble overcoming his grief over the death of his friend. Alberto is by his side as always, comforting him.





	Ink and Flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harscrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harscrow/gifts), [ashkore_varg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkore_varg/gifts).



> This just poured out of me. It's a strange little piece but I hope you like it as much as I do.  
> Like the other fics, this is not canon. If you know my writing, I just try to give these bois the freedom and space to love each other. This isn't always easy in life.

Scrapes against slate. Like iron nails on the lid of a coffin. 

Grey static.  
This is the sound the old fridge makes behind him as the motor fires up.  
  
“Cazzo de posto demmerda…” _Fucking crap place.  
_Aureliano isn’t upset with his rundown hotel. He isn’t upset with the shitty cooler or the way the yellowed neon light fucking sizzling above his head is making his migraine come back.  
This goes deeper.  
  
_Stop being yourself._ He repeats this over and over again.  
_Stop being yourself. Stop being yourself. Stop being yourself.  
_It’s hard though. Who else can he be?!  
He’s trying. He’s trying to be different. For Alberto. Not that Albè ever asked this of him. But he knows.  
He knows what he can be like. How difficult it must be to be a sensitive bearer of white light and yet have to love a brooding, emotionally crippled mess like himself.  
_Stop being yourself. Stop being the darkness in the shadow of Spadino’s existence._  
  
“I want to do this for him.” Aureliano said this the night he found himself with his chest cracked open. Exposed. Raw. Gutted.   
The night Lele died was when he realized how much of a fool he’d been. What was truly at stake. Between hiccuped gulps of cold air and brine on his wine lips he allowed himself to finally _be.  
_  
What Aurè was about to let slip past was too precious.  Too rare. And after everything he’d lost, he couldn’t bear to lose Alberto as well.  
So that was the night Lele died and that same night was his becoming. He dragged it up from inside.  
His center. His soul.  
Resting on the curve of his open palms like a sacrifice was Aureliano’s heart. His essence.  
_Albè…_  
He was ready to get on his knees for him.  
_Albè_ …  
Die for him.  
_Albè_ …  
A blood offering.  
_I love you. I’m sorry. Please… take them._ _Good God let me give you my life._

 _-  
_  
Aureliano came forward. Extended. Bestowed.  
Spadino met him. Gathered. Accepted.  
  
Then the reckoning.  
Hungry hands pulling. Tugging on fabric.  
Needy mouths searching. Teeth clashing.  
Black jeans in a pile on the floor.  
First one pair. Then another.  
A shirt. Another followed.  
Intimates tossed without looking, hastily pulled down by quivering limbs.  
  
The study of naked skin read from cover to cover through teary gazes. Curves and sharp angles memorized by sad eyes and mapped by even sadder tongues.  
They drank of their grief and made the bitter… sweet.  
  
It was Aureliano’s first time with a man but that didn’t matter. Alberto was there to guide him. Reassure him. Caress away the shivers of novelty and warm their bodies to a burn with desire.  
  
Pale flesh on pale flesh. Pale flesh _in_ pale flesh. To forget?  
No. To remember.  
Black eyes brimming with love, gazing into Aureliano’s frostbitten ones, melting them.  
Thawing his icy heart as they moved as one.  
“Guardame Aurelià…” _Look at me Aurelià_ Spadino begged from behind a star-filled daze. “Nun avè paura…” _Don’t be afraid._  
  
Aureliano wasn’t afraid. Not then. Not with Alberto’s slim arms holding him tight, fingernails leaving half-moon scars on his strong back. Not when he shut his eyes and Alberto’s perfume hit his nostrils and the slide of his sex inside his lover drew them closer and closer to their rapture.  
Spadino’s nails drew blood. Deep. Red. Embedded enough to leave marks so Aureliano would remember.  
_You’ll never be alone again, Aurelià._ _I’m yours and you're mine._  
  
Then they came. Aureliano broke first, legs trembling and a beseech escaping his slick, gaping mouth.  
“Stai con me te prego… “ _Stay with me I beg you…_  
He dissipated between Spadino’s thighs. Within his heat. Within his embrace.  
Alberto collapsed onto him. Into him. Emptied his secretions between their glistening bodies with a litany of loving effusions spoken and unspoken.  
  
Spadino drowned in the oceanic expanse of Aureliano’s eyes while the salt of their release caked their flushed skin like sea water.  
  
-  
  
The old fridge whirs loudly now. Much like his mind. Churning and clacking away with admirably stubborn insistence.  
Louder at night. Muted in the day.

He asks himself if he should go wake Alberto. Maybe he shouldn’t be alone. Maybe…  
_Fuck._  
It’s unnerving. Electric. Grinding. Like teeth in the middle of the night under the veil of insomnia which is just a fucking excuse for not grabbing onto Albè and…  
  
Aureliano would do anything for Alberto. That’s how much he’s grown to love him now. He thinks about this as he scans the shelves looking for something to drink.  
  
Aureliano would make the moon rise in the morning and the sun shine in the night sky if Albè asked.   
He’d make the seas part and the mountains fall at Alberto’s feet.  
There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for him.  
  
A calendar marked with appointments long passed, long forgotten drops to the floor with a billowing swish as he walks past. It stirs him from his thoughts.  
The rusty nail that held it up tings on the tile and bounces off to the corner.  A sliver of cracked paint chips off the wall.  
“Cazzo de posto demmerda…” _Fucking crap place._ Aureliano swears under his breath.  
  
He stares down at his hand. There’s black under his index fingernail. Black like soot. Black like ash.  
_There was so much fucking ash…_  
He grabs a knife and tries to clean it off. Pushes the tip in under the white until it hurts.  
  
Aureliano’s on edge. It’s as if he can sense every cell in his body individually. How long has it been since I slept properly? he wonders.  
Using the heel of his free hand, he rubs away at an ache behind his eyes that isn’t really there. It’s just like the cannonball of hollow in his stomach or the piercing stab in his temple.  
It comes. It goes.  
It’s the grief. It dips in and out of him without warning.

Aureliano’s mouth is so dry he can barely lick his lips. He spots the row of small containers. Grabbing a juice from the counter, the tab to open it gives and he opens it with so much nervous energy it spills all over his chest.  
“Ma cazzo!” he shouts. _Fuck!_   “Ma porca puttana!”  
It soaks through. Cherry red seeping into the cloud-white fibers.  
_I’ll never fucking get this shit out._

Pulling the t-shirt over his head with an exasperated grunt, abs flexing as he raises his arms, Aureliano tosses it into a crumpled heap before him.  
The sting from under the plastic wrap sheathing his forearm throbs dully as the cotton passes over it.  
Aureliano stares at it in dumbfounded remembrance. He’d almost forgotten it was there.

Long lashes blink back a raw tear. He draws a deep breath and lets the air out slowly through his nose.  
Cazzo hai fatto Lele? he mutters under his breath. A shake of the head. Cazzo hai fatt?!  
_What the fuck did you do, Lele?_  
  
_

**“Voi siete gli unici amici che ho e vi voglio bene. Ma non sono come voi… “ _  
You’re the only friends I have and I care for you. But I’m not like you…”_**

It takes just a second for it all to come rushing back. It’s been a week and yet…  
The wide-eyed decision in Lele’s gaze. The calm resolve in his voice.  
Fuck.  
**Ma non sono come voi…**  
  
Next the ear-shattering shot. The smoke. The acrid scent of powder.  
Gravel-grey stained in crimson the color of Lele’s lips a moment later.  
Fuck.  
After that… after what seemed like an eternity… smoke. A different acrid smell.  
A pale burial shroud that disintegrated within the flames as Aureliano and Spadino bore witness.  
  
Finally ash. Mounds and mounds of bleeding dove-colored ash everywhere.

-

Aureliano reaches over. Fingers the fresh design over the smooth plastic and hisses when it stings. It’s nestled between the one he got for his sister and the one etched for Romolo. Unconsciously his quaking fingertips draw up to his neck, palm to the wings. 

Hot tears brim but he doesn’t allow them to crest. Aureliano swallows back the hurt like the last bite of a death row meal.   
That’s just it. Lately death has been everywhere and it’s fucking exhausting. Looming in front of him like a fucking mad curse.   
  
A study of Aureliano’s tattoos is just this: like walking through a cemetery. Tributes to loss through ink and flesh instead of stone and chisel. Either way, the result is the same. When crushed, be it rust, bone or heart, it all turns to bitter dust.  
This has become his life’s purpose now. Protecting Alberto from such a fate. He’s only gotten him back now, he’s not going to fucking lose him again. 

There’s no more space on his arm for another grief mark and his heart can’t bear another rip.

-

Fingers curl around the cold steel edge, Aureliano straightening his back which dully throbs between his smooth shoulder blades.  
Skin drawn tight with fatigue, he raises a hand to knead the stiff muscles in his neck as he rolls his head in a circle.

“Cazzo… “ _Fuck_ he breathes when he hears a crack.

He’s standing at the sink, barefoot and shirtless. His pajama pants hang loose around his waist, the top button undone.

Water rushing out of a faucet reminds him of the balled tee on the counter.   
When did he turn that on?!  
The heat seeps into his fingers. The soap froths up from between cherry-stained knuckles.  
Aureliano’s pushing hard on the sponge. The roaring in his ears increases and his movements seem to be in slow motion.  
  
A chair tucked around a table scrapes on the floor. The door that doesn’t quite shut opens behind him.   
“Amò che fai?” _What are you doing luv?_  
He doesn’t hear Spadino. Aureliano continues to scrub vigorously. The fabric pills and the fucking stain isn’t going away. It isn’t going away!  
“Cazzo!” _Fuck!  
_  
“Amò che stai a fà?” _What are you doing luv?  
_Long fingers wrap around Aureliano’s wrist, the other hand splayed warm on the cross inked above the cleft of Aureliano’s mounds.  
Sleep still puffs Alberto’s coffee eyes. His dark hair is a tousled mess on his head. Burying his nose in Aureliano’s neck, he breathes a kiss there.  
Aureliano immediately relaxes. Drops the sponge.  
  
“Ciao Albè. Scusame… “ _Hi Albè. Sorry._ He inches down, mouth softly closing over the flower of his rosy mouth. Aureliano will never tire of this. “T’ho svegliato?” _Did I wake you?_  
  
“No, tranquillo. Però Aurelià, so' le 3 de mattina. Cazzo stai a lavà? Stanotte hai sonato er chitarone?” _No, don’t worry. But_ _Aurelià, it’s 3 in the morning. The fuck are you washing? Did you sleep at all?  
_“Se. Dormito niente. Poi aperto un succo demmerda. M’ha sporcato tutto…”   _No. Not a wink._ _I opened a fucking juice and it got all over.  
_The tone to his voice is tight. _  
_  
Alberto reaches Aureliano’s shoulders by the valley of his spine. The muscles are tense, like ropes of hard nylon. Lips softly peck the roundness of his shoulder.  
He’s freaking out, Spadino concludes. He’s exhausted and he misses Lele and he’s fucking spiraling.  
_  
_ “Devi lasciarlo in acqua e aceto, Aurè. Altrimenti lo fissa de piu’. Poi piu’ strofini piu’ rovini a’ maglia.”  
_Let it soak in water and vinegar, Aurè. Otherwise it’s gonna make it stick. And the harder you scrub the more you ruin the shirt.  
_The problem isn’t the stain. The problem isn’t the rubbing. No matter how much you polish, you can’t buff away the sins of your fathers. This is the problem.  
  
Aureliano smiles faintly. Tilts his head. There’s an almost painful sympathy in Spadino’s eyes.  
“Cazzo ne sai te de sta roba, Albè?” _What the fuck do you know about this stuff?_  
“C’ho le mani demmerda me sporco sempre e le cose costose mie me le lavo a mano. Non me fido de Angelica.”  
_I’m clumsy and spill stuff all the time. My expensive things I wash myself. I don’t trust Angelica to do this.  
  
_The caress of Aureliano’s lips sends a velvet warmth through Spadino. _  
“Sei da sposà Albè… “  You’re one to marry Albè._  
“Seh vabbè… fosse solo pe’ questo…”  _Right. Just for that…  
_A rougher, more aggressive pressure on his mouth makes Alberto’s lips fall open helplessly beneath Aureliano’s probing tongue. He surveys his tiny face through half-closed lids when he pulls off.  
“No, pe’ molto de più amò…” _No. For much more…  
  
_Alberto’s sex stirs against Aureliano’s growing length. He bites into his lower lip in a smalll nibble and sighs.  
“Aspè….”  _Wait.  
_Grabbing a bowl, Alberto finds a bottle of white vinegar and pours it into the tepid water. Adds a bit of detergent. He transfers the shirt in and twirls it around with his pointer finger.  
“Ora lascia tutto. Aspettamo.”  _Let it soak. Now we wait._  
“E che famo mentre aspettamo Albè?”  _And what do we do while we wait, Albè?  
 _The knowing look, the smirking wink. Alberto is gone.  
“Penso che qualcosa me po’ venì in mente… “  _I think I can come up with something…_  
   
-  
  
The drag of Aureliano’s beard against Spadino’s soft cheek until he crawls down his body like a ladder. Bliss.  
Tongue flattened, nicking into the sharp angles of Aureliano’s bones.  
Alberto explores.  
A hiss.  
A groan.  
“Te prego…” _Please…  
_Aureliano's not so much begging for release. He's begging to forget. To lose himself in Spadino. Put all the death and fucking darkness behind them, just like they did the night they burned Lele on the pyre.  _  
_  
Down down down to the dark down of his pubes Alberto's mouth travels. A large hand guiding the rhythm, twisting into the soft, ebony hair of his love’s head as his sex is swallowed.    
Aureliano melts. Comes dangerously close after only a couple minutes.   
"Albè..." he murmurs.   
The pull. It’s back up, the tip of his muscle sweeps Aureliano’s navel. He's never craved him more.   
“Te vojo,” _I want you_ Aureliano whimpers. Knee nudges and lightly grazes his balls.  
  
Fingers walk their way down the small of Albè’s back. To the roundness of his perfect ass and… the puckered opening between.  
Alberto raises himself as his legs fall open.  
He nods. Props his feet up.   
  
Three slicked fingers slip in. It’s getting easier for Aureliano to navigate his map of Alberto’s body. Knowledge increases confidence. The more he travels the more he learns.   
Like that nuzzling the spot below his ear, and nipping into the soft skin there makes Albè weak.   
“Te vojo,” _I want you_ the other says now.  
  
They kiss. There’s a taste of rust on his lips as one of the bite marks on Aureliano’s chest had painted Spadino’s lips poppy.  
Albè shifts. The plastic slides off Aureliano's forearm, ink and a small dusting of blood rubbing into Spadino's ribs like war paint.  
  
Albè swipes his digits over it. Smearing it on his pout like lipstick, deepening their color.   
So fucking hot, Aureliano thinks.   
  
Alberto sits up when he enters him. Still not used to his ample girth, he draws deep breaths and concentrates his ministrations on the star, the one Aureliano added to his chest just for him.  
He sucks at his sweet flesh avidly as Aureliano sucks air through his teeth, breath escaping in long, surrendering moans with each thrust.   
   
The sizzle doesn’t come now from the light above. It’s a hum on their throbbing lips and a bright orange light behind their lids.   
A rosary of “mms” and “fucks” drown out the fridge acting up.  
  
Aureliano’s cock ravishes Alberto into the rickety table in total abandon.   
_Stop being yourself._  
Aureliano quiets the voice in his head. No. I’m who I’m supposed to be now, he replies to no one. Spadino's made me so. Completed me.   
  
A thumb presses into the plump thickness of Aureliano's lower lip after Alberto comes. A moist index finger follows.    
Aureliano makes them both disappear into his mouth when his sex twitches inside Spadino, three hot pulses pooling in his deepest recesses.  
  
Spadino closes his eyes, hand twisting his own cock in time to Aureliano's tongue swirling on his digits as he rides out the rest of his orgasm.   
Spadino tastes of blood and ink and cum. Aureliano licks down his sternum when he pulls out, lapping up what's left.   
  
Rust.   
Bone.   
An aching heart.   
  
Lele would have wanted his demise to mean something.  
It does.   
Loves sweeps the ashes away, leaving a clean slate. An opening for new beginnings despite being born of tragedy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. I'm working through some writer's block and this definitely helped to open the gates a bit. As always forgive my romanesco if it isn't perfect  
> but at this point I just go by ear and what research I've done.  
> I just feel this couple so much now it's hard for me to write anything else. I prefer to go with the flow of things when it's like this so expect more. Actually there is more coming. Working on two collabs, one new fic, and a couple of posted fic updates that will have at least one or two more chapters. Stay tuned.  
> Lyrics from "Take me to Church" thrown in there and inspiration from the Penny Dreadful graphic novels I recently purchased and read. 
> 
> I'm gifting this to two very special people who have been absolutely amazing and have not only opened their hearts to me, but also have turned into two amazing friends helping me through a very difficult moment recently.


End file.
